Hail Mary full of… Oh fuck… Ah, we didn’t die… But we just swore in the middle of… Oh shit…
I was on an okada (commercial motorcycle) from Ojota to Berger and trying to pray rather unsuccessfully. I was in desperate, very critical need of God’s help but bloody cars and trucks were speeding past, leaving the bikeman and I in winds so strong I felt the bike wobbling and threatening to throw us to the gods of the express.
My heart was doing gbim gbim gbim in my chest and a voice in my head was writing an evil epitaph: Dupe was a bright girl snatched in her prime by the vagaries of juvenile delinquency…. Chai Gawd🙆♀️! Pliss na! I wii nuh falatine boy again. Oluwa dakunnnnn 🙏🥺🥺🥺
It was 4:30p.m and pockets of traffic building on roads below the bridge warned that I should not consider getting off the bike for a bus. I needed to get home at least 10 minutes before 5p.m when Mum and Dad would be back from work. I had to undress, pack in the clothes I had dried that morning, and look like I’d had a very boring went-nowhere day.
I wasn’t sure what I was more scared: dying on the express or dying at the hands of Mummy if I arrived in my spaghetti top and bootcut jeans to meet them already at home🙆♀️. It felt like death was staring at me with a sharp cutlass dangling from his waist, shining sharp vampire teeth, and rubbing his hands in glee😭😭😭.
…I got home only in time to pack the clothes. I wore shorts when I heard the car, flung off jewellery, threw my brand new teddy bear, Moschino perfume and other goodies under my bed, and claimed I was sweating furiously because I’d been exercising.
*wipes sweat off brows*
So… has Valentine ever gotten you in danger or trouble?